


Another day at the office

by Romanumeternal



Series: Random stories from the People's Republic of Rome [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Bad Decisions, Dark, Non-Sexual Slavery, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 22:15:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17068142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romanumeternal/pseuds/Romanumeternal
Summary: This one needs an absolutely massive disclaimer:This is a work of fiction; and the two characters here are not meant to be admired, respected or considered good in any way. What I've tried to do is humanise and explain bad people, not excuse them.On a slightly less serious note, blame Mossgreen and FrMannerly for this!Now that's over with...A slave trader and his son in law have a little chat...





	Another day at the office

Gallius shook his head in disgust as he looked over the gaunt woman, sleeping fitfully on the cot. One of her thin wrists was handcuffed to its side, the other arm was thrown, fitfully, alongside her closely cropped head.

The room was bare, aside from the bed, harshly illuminated by fluorescent lights. Distantly, he could hear the clatter of shackles, vehicles moving, shouts - sounds so commonplace he'd gotten used to them. 

 

He turned to the man beside him. Marcella was always begging him to give her husband some way to advance himself in the business, and so Gallius had, reluctantly, given him a small budget for buying slaves. Somewhat to his surprise (and to his daughter's unfeigned joy) he'd turned out to be not bad at it. But in this instance, he had to wonder exactly what Zeno had been thinking.

 

"Why, in the name of absolute fuck, did you buy her?"

 

His son in law didn't flinch, didn't whimper, didn't apologise, and for that Gallius gave him grudging approval. He had four daughters - ah, four daughters, and not one son! how could a man have offended the Gods so? - and three of them had married men who were respectively weak, feckless or just bone idle.  Zeno, though, was the exception. Hades, the boy sometimes stood up to him. Always respectfully, of course, and rarely, but it did happen. Gallius liked that. The boy had balls, at least. 

 

"Because she was going cheap, sir" he said. He shrugged. "You're always saying you're wanting more stock that isn't either foreigners or a delictor."

 

Gallius grunted at the truth of that. Personally, he hated handling both foreign stock and those sentenced to slavery by the courts. The former sold for a pittance and often required harsh treatment simply to get them to understand that it was Latin they spoke now, not whatever barbarian babble they'd spoken beforehand. The latter were even worse - selling for even less, being either dangerously aggressive or suicidal depressive, and usually so truculent you had to more or less beat one to a pulp before they'd listen. It made him wonder why he applied, each year, to the Secreteriat for a licence to sell delictores. It wasn't as if there was a huge market for them, anyway - mostly state owned labour camps and factories, and the occasional large business. Plus you had to fill in a mountain of paperwork, try not to be rude to some jumped up Secreteriat drone, and inevitably slip his patron, and the Secreteriat, a small 'gift'. 

 

"Truth" he agreed. "But Juno's cunt, look at the bitch." He glanced at his son in law, and then swallowed what he was going to say next. Truth be told, he'd allowed Zeno an allowance for purchasing stock. Zeno had done so. He could (and would) criticise his choice further later. But gently, after all. The boy was eager to learn. Hades, hadn't he made mistakes in his youth. 

 

"Sure, she's skinny" said Zeno, lifting up the blanket and throwing it away to reveal the girl's naked body. Gallius, who stared at naked bodies most days, looked over it coldly. He had a fine wife, and two sweet slavegirls, at home, as well as a Yarukian slave at his office who knew how to please him and was desperate to avoid being sold on, even if she always put too much sugar in the coffee. A sick, emaciated ex-whore didn't interest him - right now, at any rate. 

 

"More than that. Look's like she hasn't been fed properly for a bit." He glanced at the left leg, and frowned. "See that? Poorly set, the leg's slightly misshapen. Someone broke the cunt's leg - early, I should guess - and it was never properly allowed to heal." He leaned down, and firmly gripped the girl's bony shoulder, half rolling her over. She moaned in her sleep, her eyelids fluttering. "Fuck. And someone went to town on her back." He looked at Zeno. "Teeth missing, too?"

 

Zeno nodded. "Um, according to the file, it was a punishment."

 

Gallius snorted. "Uh huh. So could be a troublemaker." The thought didn't bother him, overmuch. In his experience, 'troublemakers' were often surprisingly easy to cure. A swift, brutal punishment, followed by some helpful reminders about where slaves who didn't know their place could end up. Gallius didn't enjoy doing it - he found the inevitable sobs and tears and pleas annoying more than anything else, and it was a mystery to him why slaves thought it'd help - but generally it worked.  And, in the long run, he reasoned, it was good for the slave and the customer as well. 

 

"Perhaps, sir." He paused. "Or just badly treated."

 

Gallius nodded. There was always that, of course. He never could fathom why some people found their enjoyment in tormenting their own property, but Gods knew it happened. Hades, there were some men he had privately vowed never to sell anyone too. Severity was all well and good - his own slaves knew their place and what they could expect should they displease him - but there was a gulf between that and what he knew some men and women indulged in. The same people, he knew, were the sort to act all surprised when their slaves killed themselves, or ran away, or simply disappeared.

 

"There's a lesson there, Zeno" he said. "You got this bitch from the hospital, right?"

 

"Yes, sir. For three thousand denari."

 

"My guess is the hospital purchased her for less than five hundred."

 

Zeno frowned, not entirely getting it.

 

"Sir?"

 

"And we'll sell her for five thousand, at least. We won't have trained her, just fed her a bit. Two thousand profit for us, and fifteen hundred for the hospital. All for a bit of warmth, some food and drugs. Or, to put it another way, when her old owners put her in this state, they lost forty five hundred denari." He turned. "Neglect and unnecessary cruelty is expensive, Zeno, remember that. Cruelty has its place, don't get me wrong. You can't be sentimental, at all. But make sure there's a bloody point to it".

 

Zeno nodded. "I will do, sir."

 

He nodded. "Good. Had to fire an idiot the other month for getting too zealous. We're here to make money, after all. Another tip, don't hire a drunk" He winced, still, at the memory of that. Oh, the overseer had said the slave had muttered something under his breath, and Hades, maybe he had. The fact remained that after the overseer had finished his 'correction' the slave was good for nothing but a labour camp. Elven thousand, he reckoned, down the drain right there. 

 

He walked around to the head of the cot, looking over the girl. Pretty, he reckoned, under the damage caused by ill-feeding and cruelty. And, if the dossier wasn't the usual mix of truth, outright lies, misleading statistics and obstructive verbiage, she was smart too. He shook his head. Idiots. A bit of better care, and perhaps an iota of common sense, and her last owners would still be able to make use of her. And for something more than serving drinks and whoring, too. 

 

He frowned. "Who were her owners?"

 

"Some bar owned her. The Naked Venus, or something along those lines. Athenian docks." Zeno glanced at her briefly. "Apparently came down with pneumonia."

 

"Gods, Athens. What a slum. Went to Attica on holiday once, when the children were smaller. Had to go the central station and Romulus above. Marcella came down with sunstroke, vomited up her ice cream all over Quintia's new tunic..." He smiled at the memory. Thankfully, once they'd reached the resort, they'd had a great time. He still had that picture of the six of them in his office, the children bobbing around him in the sea like dolphins. He sniffed, returning his mind to business.

 

"Anyway" he folded his hands. "Not sure."

 

"Not sure, sir?"

 

"Personally, I wouldn't have brought her. But you did." He let those words hang in the air. "But Hades, we all make mistakes. And, truth be told, this isn't a bad one. Might make us some money, at least. I've brought worse. I ever tell you about the time I decided to deal direct with the Militum? Promised me a hundred slaves, for a fifth of the price. Cut out the importers, the middlemen. Well, I went for it like an idiot. Course, they hadn't checked their health, had they? Actually got a shipment of fifty fucking corpses and the rest too ill to stand."

 

"Couldn't you had sued, sir?"

 

"The Militum? Don't be daft, boy. Anyway, that damn well near wiped me out for that year."

 

"Well, I'm still learning the ropes, sir."

 

"Exactly. Oh, that reminds me. You and Marcella free tomorrow evening? My wife gets bored cooking only for the two of us. Paella, I'm told it'll be."

"Sounds good, sir - oh!"

The girl's eyes had flickered open, and she was now staring at the two of them. Her mouth opened.

"Sir -sirs?"

Almost without thinking, Gallius leaned over and slapped the girl, hard, across the cheeks. Tears formed in her eyes.

"Speak when spoken to, slut" he barked. He shook his head. Honestly, most slaves understood that rule quite quickly. He looked into her face, which was now a mask of barely concealed fear. She glanced nervously from one to the other.

Zeno shrugged. "Listen up, girl. You've been purchased by the dealership of Marius Octavius Gallius. You will be sold shortly. if you keep your head down and do as you're told, it will be easier for you. If you don't, then we'll hurt you. Understand?"

Gallius was privately rather impressed. Zeno gave the usual spiel well. Certainly, the way the girl anxious and frantically nodded showed she understood.

"Y-y-y-yes dominus. Please, I won't b-be any trouble."

Gallius sniffed. "You'd better not." He turned to Zeno. "Alright, leave her here for tonight. Its late enough as it is. First thing morning we'll examine the bitch properly." He returned his attention to the slave. "Get some sleep."

The two men walked away, and the girl chewed her lip, nervously, not even bothering to pull on the cuff connecting her to the bed.

**Author's Note:**

> "Delictor" = term used to describe someone sentenced to slavery for a crime. Not that common in the People's Republic (most criminals are enslaved as they can't pay a fine; which whilst a horrible fate is not considered as awful as being made a 'Delictor') punitive enslavement (servitutem poenae expetitae) is reserved for more serious offences such as violent assaults, rapes or repeated thefts. Its commonly considered more or less a death sentence. The vast majority live and die in the labour camps maintained by the Vigilium.
> 
> Yup, that girl is intended to be Marlia. Julia may be nasty on occasion but she's a peach compared with who Marlia used to deal with. 
> 
> This originally came about from one of the comments on 'election speeches' - namely, could we write a slave trader (who is, let's face it, deserves the same level of hell as rapists, terrorists and child abusers) as, if not sympathetic, at least understandable and not an entirely one dimensional villain? Personally, I think a man in such a position is always going to be unpleasant, but there's a gulf between that and outright sociopathy.


End file.
